


Cold; It Creeps

by lisswrites



Series: You Grow On Me, (Like a vine) [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, and a concrete prison must have gotten cold as fuck, so heres my answer to this pressing issue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 21:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4321191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisswrites/pseuds/lisswrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carol/Daryl, a slice-of-life from the prison days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold; It Creeps

Daryl’d hopped down from the guard tower with his normal soundless grace, absentmindedly rubbing his bare arms against the early morning chill.  Fall was starting to edge into the air, crisp and slightly foreboding.

_Gonna haf’ta start bringing the damn poncho out early this year._

Between the weariness and the cold, his normally sharp mind was a little addled. Slinking into the room, he couldn’t help but stare. Carol’s feet were hooked on the metal bed frame, stretching out and exposing more of her long legs more than he was used to. He wanted to clear his throat, mumble out a greeting, at least. But breathing was impossible when his gaze registered the tattered fringe scattered across her upper thighs- raking his eyes up, Daryl had to bite into the side of cheek to keep from making a sound. 

His poncho-  _tattered, smelling like him, the Triumph, the rain_ -was draped across her tiny shoulders, so long on her petite frame it covered clear past her pajama shorts.  Putting the book down before her with a start, a blush broke out across her cheekbones, highlighting the freckles as the pink slithered it’s way down her throat. Daryl’d had to drag his eyes away before it reached her chest. Man had’a limit for how much he could take.

She crossed her arms with a start, bunching the fabric in her fists. Daryl took a quick step forward, hand shooting out a bit too abruptly. He pulled on his bangs, a nervous tic Merle used to kick his ass for doing when they were still kids.

Loosening her fingers, Carol regarded the man before her. “You’re sure? Because I can take it off, it was just sitting there and it was getting c-“

His voice barely reached her when Daryl finally responded, words muffled a bit more by the cuticle he was gnawing on absentmindedly.

“Naw, it’s fine.” A rush of breath tumbled out of him,a  lower timber than she as accustomed to. “It, uh, suits ya fine”

Carol wondered if he had the chance to see the smile unfurl across her face before Daryl snuffed out the candle.

 


End file.
